Itsuki had spent the entire afternoon collecting flowers.

The field stretched beyond the walls of Albis beneath a warm summer sky, overflowing with patches of white, yellow, blue, and violet that danced whenever the wind swept across the grass. To anyone else it was simply a field on the outskirts of the city, but to eleven-year-old Itsuki it felt like an entire world waiting to be explored. Every few minutes she would dart off in a new direction after spotting another flower she deemed important, only to return with both hands full and dirt staining her knees.

Most of the flowers she gathered weren’t even particularly pretty. Some had missing petals. Others were already beginning to wilt beneath the afternoon sun. One had turned out to be little more than a weed.

“Look what I found!”

Itsuki came running back toward the large tree at the edge of the field where Suzu sat waiting. The thirteen-year-old glanced up from beneath the shade and examined the latest addition to the pile gathering beside her sister.

“That one’s a weed.”

Itsuki immediately stopped and lowered the flower.

“It is?”

Suzu nodded.

Itsuki stared at it for several seconds before placing it carefully with the others anyway.

“It looked important.”

Something almost resembling a laugh escaped Suzu before she could stop it.

Itsuki’s eyes widened instantly.

“You laughed.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t.”

The younger girl pointed accusingly while Suzu looked away, pretending the conversation wasn’t happening. The corners of her mouth twitched slightly despite her efforts.

Satisfied with her victory, Itsuki dropped into the grass and resumed working.

She had been trying to make a flower crown since lunch.

The results were questionable.

Flower stems protruded from random angles. Several sections were woven together so tightly they looked ready to snap, while others barely held themselves together at all. A yellow flower kept falling out every time she adjusted it, only for Itsuki to shove it back into place with absolute confidence.

Across from her, Suzu sat quietly with her back resting against the tree.

She looked tired.

Itsuki noticed it in the same way children noticed storms gathering on the horizon without truly understanding what they were seeing. Dark circles rested beneath Suzu’s eyes, and every now and then her attention would drift beyond the field toward the distant city. Whenever that happened, something would change in her expression for a moment before disappearing again.

Itsuki never questioned it.

That was simply how Suzu was.

To her, her sister had always seemed older than everyone else. Even when other children laughed and played in the streets, Suzu often sat quietly watching. Even when people smiled, Suzu sometimes looked like she was carrying thoughts too heavy to put down.

None of that mattered to Itsuki.

Suzu was still Suzu.

Eventually, after what felt like hours of work, Itsuki jumped to her feet and held her creation triumphantly above her head.

“Done.”

Suzu looked up.

Then stared.

The flower crown was awful.

One side drooped lower than the other. Several flowers were upside down. The yellow flower had somehow ended up hanging from the side like it was trying to escape. The entire thing looked one strong breeze away from falling apart.

Itsuki beamed anyway.

“For me?” Suzu asked.

Itsuki nodded so hard her hair bounced.

“For you.”

For a moment Suzu simply stared at the crown.

Then at Itsuki.

Then back at the crown.

Something soft appeared in her eyes.

Itsuki hurried forward before she could change her mind.

“Hold still.”

Suzu obeyed.

Carefully, Itsuki placed the crooked flower crown on top of her head. It immediately slid sideways. She adjusted it. Somehow it became worse. After another attempt she finally stepped back and admired her work with complete satisfaction.

“Perfect.”

Suzu reached up and touched one of the flowers.

Itsuki smiled.

“Pretty.”

Suzu blinked.

Itsuki pointed directly at her.

“You’re pretty.”

The older girl’s hand froze against the crown.

For a few seconds she said nothing.

Then, very quietly, she asked, “Even though everyone says I’m a witch?”

Itsuki frowned.

The question didn’t make any sense to her.

She had heard people say things before. Adults whispered when they thought children weren’t listening. Other kids sometimes repeated words they didn’t understand. Itsuki had heard them call Suzu strange. She had heard them call her dangerous. More than once she had heard the word witch.

But none of that had ever mattered.

Not to her.

“Of course.”

The answer came immediately.

Without hesitation.

Without doubt.

Suzu stared at her.

Itsuki tilted her head slightly, confused by the expression on her sister’s face.

“You’re my big sister.”

As far as Itsuki was concerned, that was the end of the conversation.

The answer was obvious.

Suzu’s fingers tightened slightly around one of the flowers woven into the crown.

The breeze swept through the field again, carrying the scent of grass and wildflowers between them. For a few moments neither sister spoke. Itsuki simply stood there waiting while Suzu looked at her as though she had said something important.

Eventually, the older girl looked away.

But not before Itsuki saw it.

A smile.

A real one.

Small.

Soft.

Genuine.

It wasn’t the faint twitch of amusement she sometimes managed to pull from Suzu. It wasn’t one of the tired expressions that appeared and disappeared before Itsuki could fully appreciate it.

This one stayed.

Itsuki’s eyes widened.

“There it is.”

Suzu looked back toward her.

“What?”

“Your smile.”

Itsuki pointed dramatically.

“You should do that more.”

A faint sigh escaped Suzu.

“I’ll think about it.”

“You always say that.”

“I know.”

“And then you never do it.”

Itsuki placed her hands on her hips.

“You should smile every day.”

“Every day?”

“Every day.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

Itsuki gasped.

“You think smiling is exhausting?”

Suzu looked upward toward the sky for a moment.

“A little.”

Itsuki stared at her as though she had just said the most ridiculous thing imaginable.

Then she burst out laughing.

To her surprise, Suzu’s smile widened slightly.

For a while they remained beneath the tree together while the afternoon slowly drifted by around them. Itsuki eventually dropped down beside her sister, leaning comfortably against her shoulder as she watched the flowers sway in the distance.

The world felt peaceful.

The city seemed impossibly far away from here.

Just the two of them.

Itsuki liked days like this.

They didn’t happen often.

Suzu sat quietly beside her, one hand occasionally reaching up to touch the crooked flower crown still resting on her head. Every time she did, Itsuki smiled to herself.

She had made that.

It wasn’t perfect.

But Suzu was still wearing it.

That alone made her happy.

Minutes passed.

Maybe longer.

Itsuki eventually found herself staring up at the clouds drifting lazily overhead.

“Suzu?”

“Hm?”

“When I’m older, do you think I’ll be strong?”

The question hung between them.

Itsuki didn’t look at her sister.

She kept watching the clouds.

Suzu was quiet for a few moments before answering.

“Why?”

Itsuki thought about it.

Then shrugged.

“So I can help people.”

Suzu’s gaze drifted toward the city in the distance.

“You don’t have to be strong to help people.”

“I think you do.”

“No.”

Itsuki finally looked up at her.

“No?”

Suzu shook her head.

“There are different kinds of strength.”

Itsuki considered that carefully.

Then nodded despite not really understanding.

That answer sounded smart.

The thirteen-year-old beside her always sounded smart.

Satisfied, Itsuki rested her head against Suzu’s shoulder again.

The warmth of the afternoon sun filtered through the leaves overhead while a gentle breeze brushed across the field. For the first time all day, Suzu looked relaxed. The tension that always seemed to live somewhere behind her eyes had eased slightly.

Itsuki noticed that too.

She didn’t know why her sister always looked so tired.

She didn’t know why people whispered.

She didn’t know why adults sometimes stared.

She didn’t know why Suzu occasionally sat awake long after everyone else had gone to sleep.

Those were things children weren’t meant to understand.

All Itsuki knew was that right now her sister looked happy.

And somehow that felt important.

The memory lingered there.

A crooked flower crown.

A quiet smile.

Two sisters sitting beneath a tree while summer winds danced through endless fields of flowers.

For a moment, it felt like the memory might last forever.

Then blood exploded across her vision.

The field vanished.

The warmth disappeared.

Hikari’s body jerked violently as a jagged pillar of crimson burst through her chest.

Itsuki’s breath caught.

The warhammer slipped from Hikari’s hand.

Floodwater surged through ruined streets.

The crimson barrier stretched across the sky.

Rei collapsed.

Roki fell.

Daichi stood alone.

The images came one after another, slamming into her mind faster than she could process them.

The flower crown.

Blood.

Suzu’s smile.

Hikari’s death.

The field.

The battlefield.

Her sister.

The Blood Witch.

Itsuki’s eyes snapped open.

The ruined Coastal Kingdom returned around her all at once.

The smell of smoke.

The floodwater.

The destruction.

The grief.

Everything came crashing back.

Her chest tightened painfully.

The memory of the girl beneath the tree collided with the reality standing somewhere beyond the battlefield.

The same person. The same eyes. The same sister. Yet somehow she felt completely different from the girl sitting beneath that tree.

Itsuki couldn’t make the two images fit together.

The pressure inside her soul intensified.

Dark wisps of corruption thickened around her body.

Grief twisted together with confusion.

Confusion twisted together with anger.

And beneath it all sat a pain so deep she couldn’t even put a name to it.

Then something moved.

A small black butterfly drifted into view.

Its wings fluttered lazily as it hovered before her.

The battlefield seemed to disappear around her as the sounds faded and even the pain became more distant.

For a few precious seconds, the butterfly was the only thing she could see.

It circled her once, then again, then a third time, moving with a slow, gentle patience that felt strangely comforting.

Before finally landing in her hair.

The warmth spread slowly through Itsuki’s body as the butterfly settled into her hair.

For a moment she simply stood there.

The battlefield remained unchanged around her. The crimson barrier still stretched across the sky. Floodwater still drifted through shattered streets. Hikari was still dead. Roki was still unconscious. Rei could barely stand. Daichi remained alone before the Blood Witch.

Yet something inside her had changed. The corruption was gone, as though something had reached into her soul and pulled her back from the edge. The black butterfly no longer fluttered before her. Instead, it rested in her hair as a dark ornament, and Itsuki slowly reached up to touch it.

It was solid and real beneath her fingers, though she had no memory of ever seeing it before. 

There was only an empty space in her memories. A missing piece she could never explain. Whenever she tried to remember what had happened inside the Shadow Elf Dungeon, her thoughts became foggy. Entire moments simply weren’t there.

But she knew one thing.

The ornament hadn’t been there before.

And somehow it felt familiar.

Nearby, Shunjiro’s attention remained fixed on Daichi and Suzu.

Then he heard movement beside him. Water shifted through the flooded street and his head turned. Itsuki was standing.

His eyes widened.

“Itsuki?”

She didn’t answer.

Slowly, she began walking forward.

The water rippled around her legs with each step.

Something immediately felt different.

Shunjiro realized it almost instantly.

The corruption was gone. Only moments ago it had been consuming her, yet now he couldn’t feel even a trace of it.

Then his eyes found the ornament resting in her hair.

The butterfly.

The same butterfly.

His stomach tightened.

The Shadow Elf Dungeon flashed through his mind.

Itsuki sleeping for a week.

Mariah claiming her soul had changed.

A healer with C-rank spiritual energy somehow surviving against an S-rank Shadow Elf.

None of it had ever made sense.

And now the butterfly had returned.

“Itsuki!”

She kept walking.

“Come back!”

Still nothing.

Shunjiro took a step forward before stopping himself.

Because for the first time since Hikari died…

Itsuki didn’t look broken.

She looked determined.

She eventually stopped several yards away from Suzu.

The Blood Witch watched her approach.

The battlefield seemed to hold its breath.

Daichi remained frozen where he stood.

Even he didn’t move.

Itsuki simply stared at her sister.

Suzu stared back.

Seconds passed.

Then more.

Neither said a word.

The silence stretched long enough to become uncomfortable, and eventually outright irritating.

Suzu’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“…You’re not going to say anything?”

Itsuki remained silent.

The response irritated Suzu immediately.

She had expected something.

Anger. Hatred. Fear. Anything.

Instead she got nothing.

Just those eyes staring at her.

“Ask me.”

Itsuki didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t respond.

The irritation grew.

Suzu took a slow breath.

“You wanted to know, didn’t you?”

A muscle twitched in Suzu’s jaw.

“Ask me.”

Finally, Itsuki spoke. Just one word, barely above a whisper.

“Who?”

For the first time, Suzu smiled.

Not warmly.

Not kindly.

A small broken smile.

“Mom and Dad.”

The words landed like a blade.

Itsuki didn’t react.

At least not outwardly.

Inside, something cracked.

Suzu watched carefully.

Waiting.

Still nothing.

No tears.

No screaming.

No accusations.

The silence somehow made everything worse.

“I killed them.”

Itsuki stared at her.

The floodwater drifted quietly between them.

“…Why?”

Suzu laughed.

A short humorless sound.

“Why?”

Her smile vanished.

“You really want to know why?”

Itsuki said nothing.

Suzu’s eyes drifted toward the sky.

Toward memories she had spent years trying to bury.

“When I was nine, the blood powers started appearing.”

Her voice had become strangely calm.

“As soon as people found out, everything changed.”

Itsuki listened.

“The other kids stopped talking to me.”

A faint smile crossed Suzu’s face.

Not a happy one.

“They used to throw rocks at me sometimes.”

Itsuki’s hands tightened.

“The baker wouldn’t serve me.”

Suzu continued.

“The butcher used to make sure everyone could hear him whenever I walked by.”

Her eyes became distant.

“Monster. Blood Witch. Freak.” 

The words carried no emotion.

As though they had been repeated so many times they had lost all meaning.

“The teacher used to make me sit alone.”

Itsuki’s heart sank.

“The neighbors told their children not to come near me.”

Suzu looked down at the water.

“People thought I didn’t notice.”

A small laugh escaped her.

“I noticed.”

Itsuki’s chest hurt.

Every sentence made it worse.

Every sentence painted a picture she had never seen.

Because Suzu had never told her.

Not once.

“And Mom?”

Itsuki finally asked.

The question came quietly.

Suzu’s eyes darkened.

“She watched. She saw all of it.”

“And Dad?”

The smile disappeared completely.

Suzu looked directly into Itsuki’s eyes.

“He agreed with them.”

Itsuki froze.

The world seemed smaller suddenly.

“He used to tell me they were right.”

Suzu’s voice remained steady.

“He said I scared people.”

Her hands tightened slightly.

“He said if I acted more normal, maybe people wouldn’t hate me.”

Itsuki couldn’t breathe.

The image she had of their parents began breaking apart.

Suzu continued.

“He told me to hide my powers.”

“When I couldn’t, he told me to stop embarrassing him.”

Itsuki lowered her gaze.

The silence between them returned.

Then Suzu laughed again.

The sound was ugly.

Broken.

“You know what happened when I went back home?”

Itsuki slowly looked up.

Suzu’s eyes were empty.

“I went there looking for you.”

Her voice softened.

For the first time.

Just slightly.

“You weren’t there.”

Itsuki’s chest tightened.

“I learned you had left.”

“To find me.”

Suzu smiled again.

The smile looked painful.

“I should’ve known.”

Itsuki remained silent.

“And do you know what they said?”

Suzu asked.

Neither sister looked away.

“They blamed me.”

The words came out flat.

Cold.

“They said you becoming an adventurer was my fault.”

Itsuki felt her hands begin shaking.

“They said if I had stayed gone, you would’ve never left.”

Suzu’s smile widened slightly.

Not because she found it funny.

Because she couldn’t believe she was saying it out loud.

“They said it would’ve been better if I was dead.”

For the first time, Itsuki looked away.

Even Daichi found himself listening.

“They said you were throwing your life away because of me.”

A long pause followed.

Then Suzu finally looked away.

“When Dad said that…”

Her voice dropped.

Something dangerous entered it.

“I boiled his blood.”

Itsuki’s eyes widened.

“He screamed.”

The floodwater shifted gently around Suzu’s feet.

“Blood came from his eyes, his mouth, his ears.”

Itsuki couldn’t move as Suzu continued.

“Mother tried stopping me.”

Suzu’s gaze remained distant.

“She screamed.”

A bitter laugh escaped her.

“She cried.”

Then her eyes hardened.

“So I stabbed her.”

Suzu’s expression never changed.

“I left them there.”

The confession echoed through the ruined street.

“I didn’t absorb their blood.”

Her gaze shifted back toward Itsuki.

“I didn’t care.”

Another pause.

Then came the final blow.

“After that, I killed everyone who ever hurt me.”

As she spoke, Suzu suddenly lifted a hand and dug her nails into the side of her head.

Itsuki’s eyes widened.

Suzu clawed downward.

Her nails tore through skin.

Blood immediately welled up beneath them.

Yet she didn’t seem to notice.

Or care.

She dragged her fingers across the side of her face, carving thin crimson lines into her cheek.

Blood trickled down her pale skin.

Her smile twitched.

Itsuki felt sick.

“The baker.”

Suzu’s bloodied fingers trembled.

“The teacher.”

Her nails dug deeper.

“The butcher.”

Blood dripped from her chin into the floodwater below.

“The neighbors.”

One after another.

One after another.

One after another.

Until there was nobody left.

Until the village that had spent years fearing the Blood Witch finally met her.

Suzu took another step forward, crimson eyes locked onto Itsuki.

“Now you know. You wanted the truth, so there it is.”

Her voice softened in a way that somehow felt more dangerous than before.

“Do you hate me yet?”

Itsuki didn’t answer.

Suzu looked frustrated.

Because after everything she had revealed…

After every horrible truth…

Itsuki still couldn’t bring herself to hate her.

Then Itsuki finally spoke.

“You killed them.”

Suzu nodded.

“Yes.”

“You killed all of them.”

“Yes.”

Itsuki’s voice trembled with heartbreak, not fear or anger, and Suzu saw it immediately. Then she delivered the final blow, the one she knew would hurt most. “If I had to do it again,” she said without hesitation, “I would.”

For several long seconds, neither sister moved.

The floodwater drifted quietly between them while the crimson barrier stretched overhead like an open wound across the sky. Suzu stood covered in blood, crimson streaks running down her face from the wounds she had carved into herself, while Itsuki remained frozen where she stood with her staff trembling in her hands.

The battlefield had become strangely quiet.

Even Daichi wasn’t moving.

Everyone was watching.

Itsuki stared at her sister.

Not the Blood Witch.

Not the monster the world feared.

Not the SSS-ranked threat who had slaughtered cities and villages.

She saw the girl beneath the tree.

The girl wearing a crooked flower crown.

The girl who had smiled.

The girl who had asked if she was still pretty even though everyone called her a witch.

The tears came before she could stop them.

They slipped down her cheeks silently.

One after another.

Suzu’s expression hardened.

“Don’t.”

Itsuki swallowed.

Her chest hurt.

“You should have come to me.”

The words came out broken.

Suzu’s eyes narrowed.

“You don’t understand.”

“No.”

Itsuki nodded slowly.

“I don’t.”

More tears fell.

“I don’t understand how you carried all of that by yourself.”

For the first time, something flickered in Suzu’s eyes.

Itsuki took a shaky breath.

“I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”

“You were a child.”

“You were too.”

The answer came immediately.

It struck harder than either of them expected.

Suzu froze.

Itsuki’s grip tightened around her staff.

“You were a child.”

Her voice trembled.

“You were a child and everyone hated you.”

The tears wouldn’t stop.

“They called you a monster.”

Her throat tightened.

“They called you a witch.”

Another tear slid down her face.

“And you were alone.”

Suzu looked away, and Itsuki immediately noticed. That was what Suzu always did whenever something hurt. She had done the same thing beneath that tree all those years ago.

“I spent years looking for you.”

The words barely rose above a whisper.

“When you left…”

Itsuki lowered her head.

“I thought maybe you were happy somewhere.”

A painful laugh escaped her.

“I thought maybe you found people who treated you better.”

The silence that followed felt unbearable.

“But all this time…”

Her voice broke.

“…you were hurting by yourself.”

Suzu clenched her jaw.

“Stop.”

Itsuki ignored her.

“I kept thinking if I found you, everything would be okay.”

“Stop.”

“I thought I could bring you home.”

“Stop.”

The word came sharper this time.

Itsuki flinched.

But she didn’t stop.

Because she couldn’t.

Not anymore.

“When I left home…”

She wiped at her eyes.

“…I wasn’t looking for the Blood Witch.”

Suzu’s hands trembled.

“I was looking for my sister.”

The words hit harder than any attack.

For a brief moment, Suzu’s expression cracked.

Just for a second.

Then it vanished.

Itsuki saw it anyway.

“I could never hate you.”

The confession echoed softly through the ruined street.

Suzu laughed.

The sound was ugly.

Broken.

“You should.”

Itsuki shook her head.

“You killed people.”

“Yes.”

“You killed Mom and Dad.”

“Yes.”

“You killed everyone in that village.”

“Yes.”

Each answer came colder than the last.

Like Suzu was trying to drive a knife deeper with every word.

Itsuki’s tears continued falling.

“I hate that.”

Suzu blinked.

Itsuki looked directly into her eyes.

“I hate what you’ve done.”

The grip on her staff tightened.

“I hate what happened to you.”

Her voice cracked.

“I hate that nobody protected you.”

Suzu’s expression began to darken.

“I hate that you were alone.”

“Enough.”

The word came out low.

Dangerous.

Itsuki ignored it.

“I hate seeing you like this.”

“Enough.”

“But I could never hate you.”

Suzu stared at her.

Itsuki stared back.

The tears continued falling.

Neither looked away.

Finally, Itsuki smiled-a small, sad smile that somehow hurt more than crying.

“That day in the field…”

Suzu froze.

“…you smiled.”

The world seemed to stop.

Itsuki’s voice softened.

“It was the happiest I’d ever seen you.”

Something flickered inside Suzu’s eyes. Fear, pain, regret-Itsuki wasn’t sure which. Maybe all three.

“You kept the flower crown on even though it looked terrible.”

A wet laugh escaped her.

“It was falling apart.”

Neither sister moved.

“It wasn’t pretty.”

Itsuki’s smile trembled.

“But you wore it anyway.”

Suzu’s breathing became uneven.

“Stop talking.”

Itsuki shook her head.

“No.”

The answer was gentle.

Firm.

Absolute.

“You asked me if I thought you were pretty even though everyone called you a witch.”

More tears slid down her face.

“And the answer hasn’t changed.”

Suzu looked away again.

Itsuki’s heart shattered.

Because she knew.

For the first time since this conversation started…

She knew she had reached her.

Not the Blood Witch.

Not the corruption.

Not the monster.

Suzu.

The real Suzu.

Buried somewhere underneath all of it.

Itsuki took a step forward.

Then another.

Until only a short distance separated them.

Her staff lowered slightly, not out of weakness, but out of trust, love, and desperation.

“I wish you had come to me.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“I wish you had told me.”

Another step.

“I wish I could have helped.”

Suzu’s hands shook.

Blood dripped from her fingertips into the floodwater below.

“I couldn’t.”

The words came out small.

Almost too quiet to hear.

Itsuki heard them anyway.

“Why?”

Suzu laughed again.

But this time there was no humor in it.

Only pain.

“Because I knew what would happen.”

Itsuki frowned.

Suzu finally looked at her again.

There were tears in her eyes. Not many, but enough.

“If you saw what I became…”

Her voice cracked.

“…you’d stop loving me.”

Itsuki’s heart broke.

Completely.

“No.”

The answer came instantly.

Without hesitation.

Without doubt.

Exactly like it had all those years ago beneath the tree.

“No, I wouldn’t.”

Suzu stared at her.

Itsuki raised her staff.

The black butterfly ornament glimmered softly within her hair.

Her spiritual energy began to rise, not with anger or hatred, but with resolve.

“I don’t care how far you’ve fallen.”

The floodwater around her feet began to ripple.

“I don’t care what you’ve done.”

Golden energy flickered around the staff.

“I don’t care what the world calls you.”

Her tears finally stopped.

Because she had made her decision.

“I am going to stop you.”

Suzu remained silent.

Itsuki’s grip tightened.

“And then…”

Her voice shook.

Not from fear.

From heartbreak.

“…I’m bringing my sister home.”